


A Return to Normalcy

by Chericola



Category: Charlie Bone Series | Children of the Red King - Jenny Nimmo
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chericola/pseuds/Chericola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time. There is always time, everyone says. Time for healing, time for revelations. But as Lyell recovers from his ten-year-long hypnosis, both he and Amy discover that time is something they don't have enough of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Return to Normalcy

Amy Bone knew that she should be happy. She had her husband back, after ten long years of separation, a husband she loved without question. Her son had his father back. Her family was whole again, just as she had always prayed it would be. Never again would she sit in her room alone, clutching her wedding ring and wishing that Lyell were still alive, that there was a chance that she could leave her miserable life in number nine Filbert Street with in-laws who hated and resented her. Never again would she be alone or afraid or helplessly at the mercy of the Yewbeams.

The moment Lyell had returned all that had diminished completely. Grandma Bone had moved to live with her horrible sisters in Darkly Wynd, much to the relief of number nine's remaining inhabitants, making the house a brighter place and Amy a free woman. She had always been terrified of Lyell's mother and now that she was gone she felt that she could finally be herself and not a timid 'shrinking violet'. All this should have made her happy, but it didn't.

Nothing felt right. She couldn't face her own husband without feeling the guilt surge through her. How many times had she considered moving on and remarrying? How many times had she went on a date and wondered if this or that man could make her as happy as Lyell had made her? The only thing that had stopped her was the reality that the Yewbeams would never let her have Charlie, and the promise she had made long ago in her heart to remember Lyell.

There had been a fair number of dates with men she had met at the green grocer's (many due to Maisie's encouragement), though most had never gone beyond a first date. She had never even taken off her wedding ring until she met Hart Noble, or Count Harken as she now knew him to be. A powerful enchanter, he had bewitched Amy into forgetting Lyell, something she had thought impossible. He had bewitched her into falling in love with him, so much that she had accepted his proposal of marriage without a second thought.

It still made Amy feel sick to the stomach to remember it. How could she have been so taken in? Granted, the man was an enchanter, but it had been her choice to enter Kingdom's, and that choice had almost led to Lyell's death and her own journey into some far-flung distant past. She couldn't forgive herself for that. It almost shattered her to think that she had almost killed her husband and doubly orphaned her son.

She recalled with a shudder the moment when she had come to herself and realised what she had done. She had seen the emerald ring blazing on her finger and felt a horror beyond reckoning. She remembered what she'd felt as she flung the hideous thing out of the window of the penthouse. Relief, certainly. But also a sense of finality, as if a part of her life was ended at last. Then she had left the store, confused and in denial, knowing that she would never be able to tell anyone about what had just occurred. Even if they believed her, she would never have the courage to tell them.

oOoOo

Amy returned to the house to find Maisie unfrozen in the bathtub, covered with leaves and seeming just as confused as herself. Immediately she helped Maisie out of the tub and into the kitchen, where Maisie at once began to prepare a feast. 'Why not?' Maisie retorted when Amy questioned her reasoning. 'I feel like a celebration. Besides, Paton and Charlie will be hungry when they get back from wherever they are.'

'Hmmm, yes,' Amy agreed, still doubtful. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched as Maisie determinately banged pots and pans and mixed together ingredients for a rather impressive looking jam sponge cake. In the end Amy left Maisie to her cooking and made herself a cup of tea, sitting at the table to wait for her son and Paton. Eventually Maisie joined her, having decided to wait until Charlie and Paton returned to continue her cooking.

And this was how Paton and Charlie found them when they walked through the door: chatting together over a nice cup of tea. Amy could see the joy and relief in their faces as they drank in the very normal, familiar scene. As she rose to embrace Charlie, she felt a well of relief that Charlie was home safe and hugged him tightly, whispering, 'Where have you been? I was so worried!' It really didn't matter where Charlie had been, of course, but the mother inside of her compelled her to say the words. The truth was that she wasn't sure she wanted to know where her son had been—she was afraid of the answer she might receive. What mattered most was that both Charlie and Paton were safe at home with their family.

During the feast that followed, Amy felt a deep peace and contentment which resonated inside of her. Her family was together and safe, Maisie was unfrozen and beaming at the enthusiastic compliments thrown at her about her delicious cake. Whatever had happened with Hart Noble (and Amy still wasn't sure exactly what had occurred), it was over now and the time had come for celebration. Grandma Bone was sulking in her room, and without her brooding presence Amy, Charlie, Paton and Maisie had a joyful, relaxed meal together. As she gazed at her family Amy felt that everything was right with her world, for the moment at least.

Near the end of the meal, Paton turned to Amy and she saw in his eyes hope and a hidden triumph. He took hold of her hand, as if to prepare her for a surprise and Amy wondered what he wanted to tell her. Nothing could ruin her peace of mind now, she thought. Until Paton spoke and Amy thought her heart would stop from the shock and tantalizing hope that filled her up. Lyell, alive? She felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them away before anyone noticed. It was what she had prayed for all these years (in vain, she always thought), and yet she almost couldn't believe it. It was like a dream, a beautiful dream which she could wake from at any moment. She had mourned Lyell, had believed him to be dead. How could he be alive?

Paton, with Charlie chiming in, related to her an almost unbelievable story. Of how Lyell was hypnotized by Manfred Bloor on the morning of the day of his 'death', and had been made to crash his car into the quarry while driving to his mother's house outside of the city. How he had been saved at the last moment from death, and had been imprisoned in Bloor's Academy as a piano teacher with no recollection of who he truly was. Amy looked away so that Paton and Charlie could not see the turmoil in her eyes. She recalled that day as if it were yesterday. She had known something was wrong with Lyell, and she had done nothing. She could have possibly stopped him from going out into the night and crashing his car into that quarry, if she had only reached out to others for help, in particular Paton. From what she had come to know of the man since they had been living under the same roof all these years, Paton was a good person as well as very well-read and wise. He would have known what to do, maybe even have prevented Lyell from making that fateful choice. But it was ten years too late now.

Her heart in her mouth, she said, 'Will he wake up? What shall we do?'

Paton told her.

And so it was that at ten minutes past eleven Amy and Charlie put on their boots and coats and left the house, Charlie holding the Red King's tears and Amy with her wedding rings sitting heavily around her fingers again. Snow was beginning to fall ever faster, and Amy and Charlie hurried along the streets to Bloor's Academy, desperate to reach it before the roads became close to impassable. Amy couldn't help but laugh at Charlie's clumsy attempts to catch a snowflake one-handed before it melted into the ground and felt her heart lift at the joy on her son's face. This was what they had both been longing for and nothing could dampen their spirits now.

oOoOo

They had expected the doors to the Academy to be locked, but they were instead wide open. As they walked across the courtyard without any trouble at all they saw red and gold leaves swirling on the cobblestones and in the building, the same sort of leaves Amy had seen covering Maisie. She couldn't help but glance at the tower from which she had once felt an unseen presence staring down at her. She shivered. What if it had been Lyell, trying to remember who he really was?

She had been too timid and afraid, then, and it had seemed natural to flee the courtyard quickly without giving much thought to who had been gazing at her. But if it were Lyell… Amy's stomach clenched. She knew that if she could return to that moment in time with the knowledge she had now she would march back into the Academy and demand to see him. She wouldn't let him go as she had on that day.

She tore her gaze away; she couldn't think about that now. It was over and she couldn't change what had happened. But she could change their future.

It was then that Amy heard the music. Sorrowful and joyful at once, it rippled in her heart as she listened and filled her with emotions she could not name. Lyell's music had always done that to her. Before his disappearance, she had taken joy in surprising him during his shift in the cathedral and listening in ecstasy to the reverberating notes. Time had not changed that, it seemed.

She could not stop staring at the stained-glass windows of the chapel, now softly glowing with light. Silently Charlie took her hand and led her around and into the chapel entrance.

She stood numbly for a moment, clinging to Charlie's hand, just listening to the music as she had done so often before. Then she was moving, running down the aisle of the chapel, a desperate need inside of her to be with her husband, to make sure this wasn't all just a dream. 'Lyell!' The shout burst out of her, reverberating around the tiny chapel as she ran. 'Lyell!' Please let him recognise me. Please let him wake up, Amy prayed with all her might.

She stumbled to a halt before the organ, Charlie walking to stand beside her. Lyell turned to stare at them, and Amy's heart ached to see nothing but bewilderment in his eyes where there used to be love and tenderness. 'Do I know you?' he asked, frowning.

Amy felt the tears pool in her eyes. Nothing could have prepared her for this. How could it be that Lyell, who once spoke to her words of tenderness, who had stolen her heart with his vivacity and his achingly beautiful music, was this confused, broken man? For she could see it in his eyes, the emptiness, the confusion, the brokenness. It was like a kick in the gut, the reality of what they had done to her husband.

She said nothing as Charlie held out the bottle for Lyell to take. Paton had said that the tears would bring Lyell home, and Amy could only pray that it worked.

'For me?' Lyell frowned at the bottle. 'What should I do with it?'

Charlie opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a cloaked figure stepped out from behind the organ, a shout of triumph on his lips. Amy had never seen him before, but recognised him from Charlie's description and the coal-black eyes that gleamed under the hood of the cloak. Manfred Bloor. The boy who, at just nine years of age, had put Lyell under and made him into this shadow of a man. He knocked the bottle out of Charlie's outstretched hand, a nasty smile on his scarred face.

'There!' Manfred kicked the broken bottle across the floor. 'That's put an end to your little game, Charlie Bone!'

For the first time Amy felt true despair. Their only chance of awakening Lyell was gone. What on earth could they do now?

Manfred was still smiling, and she wanted to claw at his face and disfigure it even more than it was already. He had done this to Lyell, and had now ruined their only chance of being a family again.

The smile died away into a look of horror, and both Amy and Charlie followed his gaze to the red and gold leaves that had been drifting in the chapel. They were leaves no longer—they had revealed their true form, that of three leopards. The Red King's leopards. They started towards Manfred, the intent clear in their eyes.

Manfred let out a terrified whimper, and ran. The leopards followed him with thunderous roars, out of the chapel, and moments later Amy heard a single, high-pitched scream. Then silence.

Amy shuddered. Had the leopards killed Manfred Bloor? Although she did feel horror at what those leopards had done, she had a sense of satisfaction as well. Finally, Manfred Bloor had got what he deserved.

Lyell stood up and shook his head, as though he couldn't quite understand what he had seen.

She bit her lip to stop the tears from falling, and stared at her bewildered, unknowing husband, wishing that he could truly see her. It pained her more than she had thought to see the blankness in his eyes when he looked at her, as if she were a stranger.

'Lyell,' she said, and she could hear the brokenness in her own voice. 'Oh, Lyell, will you never wake up?'

He smiled faintly, and it shattered Amy's heart even more, to be so close and yet so far away. This wasn't the Lyell she had known and loved so long ago, and now she wasn't sure that Lyell would ever come back. How could life be so cruel, to allow them this chance and snatch it away at the last moment? Amy bowed her head, and tried to forestall the grief of losing him all over again.

Lyell took no notice of her; his eye had caught sight of the now jagged bottle, and for whatever reason –instinct, perhaps—he bent to pick it up.

Amy didn't look up. It was too painful, to look at him and see him like this.

His fingers clamped around the jagged edge, and Amy still didn't look up.

And then Amy heard him cry out, and her head shot up at last. The blood welled crimson on Lyell's finger as he lifted it to his mouth. He must have cut it on the bottle, Amy thought dimly.

The strangest expression crossed his face. He stared at Amy, then at Charlie.

Amy's heart pounded; she felt herself sway. Please let it be real, she begged silently. Let it be happening. An avalanche of hope tumbled down upon her, filling her hollow heart. Maybe they still had a chance, after all.

For a moment, Amy could hardly breathe. Lyell looked at them both and she could see that his eyes were no longer clouded, no longer dazed. Her heart in her mouth, she waited.

'Charlie?' Lyell said, and his eyes blazed with startled recognition. 'And Amy.'

With a sob, Amy flung herself at him. His arms closed around her, strong and comforting, and she buried her face in his chest, murmuring his name over and over again. Lyell. She could feel silent sobs wrack her body; feel the dampness on Lyell's cheeks mingle with her own. She heard Lyell whispering her name as if he could hardly believe she was there in his arms, his voice cracking with emotion.

They clung to each other as if they would never let go. She could feel him in her arms, rigid with shock, and see the dazed recognition in his eyes, and felt blessed.

It was over at last.

oOoOo

Charlie's heart was too full for him to speak, so he hugged his father tightly and looked up at him.

'Charlie,' his father said huskily. 'You've grown up so much.'

'I'm twelve now,' Charlie managed to say.

'Twelve,' Lyell echoed. He shook his head slowly, as if he could hardly believe it.

Beside him, Amy smiled, her eyes bright with tears. Charlie had never seen his mother so happy before—she was positively glowing as she held onto her husband's hand. It was as if she were a completely different woman to the quiet, timid, sorrowful mother he had always known. She looked at her family, finally complete after ten long years, and said, 'Let's go home.'

Charlie couldn't agree more.

oOoOo

Uncle Paton met them at the door of number nine Filbert Street. Lyell, Amy and Charlie could see his tall silhouette standing at the entrance of the house. He held up a hand to them, welcoming them home, a huge grin splitting his face. Charlie waved at him, jumping up and down, barely able to contain the joy he was feeling. Letting go of his mother's hand, he ran the final meters to his uncle.

'Uncle Paton, we did it!' Charlie cried. 'We did it! We're home. All of us.'

Paton stared at him for a moment, and then laughed, low and triumphant, as if he could hardly believe it. He looked at Amy and Lyell walking hand in hand towards them, and shook his head, and Charlie could see that there were tears in his eyes.

'Lyell,' Paton said, and the two men embraced.

As they entered the house, Charlie noticed for the first time that something was different.

'Where's Grandma Bone?' he asked.

Paton turned to look back at him, and there was a look of immense satisfaction on his face. 'She's gone, Charlie,' he said.

'What?' Charlie gaped at him. It couldn't be true. Could it?

'She left soon after you and Amy. Just like that, bags and all. She's not coming back.' Paton chuckled.

Charlie let out such a whoop of delight that both his parents looked at him in amazement. He wanted to leap and whirl around the room and yell out his joy to the world. Grandma Bone was gone! It was a dream come true.

'Maisie's preparing a feast,' Paton added, grinning at Charlie. 'I daresay it'll be all the more enjoyable now, with Grizelda gone.' He rubbed his hands together in unsuppressed glee. 'Now we can really celebrate!'

'Yes!'

As they all sat munching chocolate cake and biscuits Charlie couldn't help but notice how much like a true family meal it was, with idle conversation and no arguments at all. Lyell and Amy couldn't stop holding hands, Paton was engaging them both in energetic conversation and Maisie sat beaming at the joy on her daughter's face. Charlie was content to sit and quietly eat his cake and watch them all, wondering how they could have gotten so lucky. Just a day before, his mother had been bewitched, his father hypnotized, and Maisie frozen. Now they were all sitting at the table tucking into a feast together as a family.

Charlie would never forget what a near thing it had been, how the enchanter Harken had nearly dragged his mother into the past and killed his father. However, it was not in his nature to brood over the past and at that moment all he could feel was an ecstatic joy that his family was whole again at last.

It was at the end of the meal that Charlie remembered his promise. Seeing the looks on his parents' faces, Charlie, Paton and Maisie had quickly exited the room to give them some private time alone. Charlie just managed to catch up with Paton's long legs as they started up the stairs. 'Uncle P! We need to call the others and tell them what happened. We promised!'

Paton paused, turning to look down at Charlie, and smiled. 'My dear boy, I believe you are right. But will they be awake at this ungodly hour?'

'I think so,' Charlie said. 'If I know them, they'll wait all night.'

Paton chuckled at that, and started up the stairs again, taking the steps in twos and threes. Charlie hurried to follow him, eager to tell his friends the good news.

oOoOo

Lyell and Amy were left alone in the kitchen, gazing at each other, unsure of what to say. It had been the first time they had been alone together in ten years, and Amy could feel the awkwardness between them. She ventured for something to say, but found nothing.

For a long moment they sat in silence. Then Lyell spoke. 'Charlie's grown up so much. I can hardly believe it.'

'I know,' Amy said. 'He turned twelve a couple weeks ago. We threw a party for him.' She looked away then, her emotions overcoming her.

Lyell said nothing.

'He's endowed,' Amy added. 'With picture-travelling.'

'I know,' Lyell said. 'Like Amoret.' Seeing Amy's look of surprise, he smiled. 'I wasn't completely oblivious. I did hear things.'

Amy fought to hide a smile. 'He's very much like you, you know, always getting into scrapes and trying to help others. Sometimes I'd look at him and…' She felt her smile falter as she remembered. She swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat, and continued. 'And he'd remind me of you.'

This time it was Lyell who looked away.

'He's a good boy,' she continued. 'He's careless and cheerful and a bit head-strong, and so optimistic. He never believed you were dead like the rest of us did. He's been running around the city with his friends, solving mysteries.'

A myriad of emotions crossed Lyell's face, and Amy watched as he shook his head as if he almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.

'I don't know what I would have done, without Maisie to help look after him. He was a handful, when he was really little. Your mother of course never bothered to give any help beyond shelter and money and Paton never came out of his room except at night, until recently. They both paid for this house, your mother and Paton, and let us move in. They moved in with us, of course. Your mother said it was out of the goodness of their hearts, but I knew they wanted Charlie. They thought he might be endowed, and they were right.'

'Knowing my mother, she wouldn't have bothered otherwise,' Lyell said grimly. 'She has a heart of stone.'

Amy hesitated. How much did he remember from before? He had recognised Amy and Charlie, and plainly recalled his mother, but what of his other memories? She bit her lip. 'How much do you remember, from before?' she asked timidly. She had to know.

He took a deep breath. 'Not much,' he said. 'I remember you and Charlie, and my mother, my aunts and Paton. I remember what happened at the cathedral, just before I was put under. I remember some of what happened afterwards. But that's all.' The shuttered look in his eyes stilled Amy to silence, and she nodded. She saw the shadows in his eyes, the hidden scars that only time could heal. She didn't know what he had experienced, when he was 'asleep', but she had seen him in the chapel. She had seen what he had become.

Amy's heart ached. She longed to take him in her arms, but was afraid. He had grown older, changed, just as she had. He was no longer the young, laughing man at the piano who had first attracted her, nor was she any longer the young, sweet and innocent woman who had first met him at the green grocer's years earlier. Time had made them strangers to one another, and they could only try to move on as best as they could and salvage what they had.

Lyell stared at her and she knew he was thinking the exact same thing. 'Amy…'

'I know,' she whispered. Tears sprang into her eyes, blurring her vision. What could she say? How could she admit the immense wave of guilt she felt when she looked at him? For parts of her own memory had returned, and she recalled what she had almost done. She had been ready and willing to marry Hart Noble and had forgotten Lyell. She had even taken off her rings! It ate her up inside, how taken in she'd been by Hart's charm and that she had forgotten every promise she had ever made to herself. 'Everything has changed. We've changed. I…I just can't think about any of it tonight.' Her breath hitched.

'I know,' Lyell said. 'Neither can I.' Slowly, tentatively, he drew her into his arms, cradling her gently. 'We have time, though.'

Time. She needed time. They both did, to find each other again. She loved Lyell, she knew she did, but she needed time to really know him again and understand exactly who had returned to her. Lyell needed to heal, to regain his sense of self and his memories of before. Yes, she thought, she could wait.

'It's late,' Lyell said softly. 'We should go up.'

She looked up and saw that he was right. It was three-o'clock; almost an hour after the others had departed for their beds. 'Yes,' she agreed. Quietly they stood, hand-in-hand, and mounted the stairs to her bedroom, the things unsaid pressing between them like a heavy blanket.


	2. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time. There is always time, everyone says. Time for healing, time for revelations. But as Lyell recovers from his ten-year-long hypnosis, both he and Amy discover that time is something they don't have enough of.

It had long ago become a habit of Lyell's, to wake early in the morning as the rest of the city slept.

Whether it had been because of his hypnotised state or not, he'd always had difficulty sleeping, from the very first moment he had set foot in Bloor's Academy. He would spend many nights staring up at the ceiling of the music tower and trying to remember anything from before. Most nights, there was nothing, but at times, especially at midnight, he could hear her voice and see her face, bringing an ache to his heart that never quite went away. He'd feel the memories ripple inside his mind, but before he could reach for them they would slip away and by morning he would be as he usually was: numb, exhausted, and hollow. After ten years of such nights, it was so ingrained in him that it would be hard to get out of it now.

From where he lay on the bed, Lyell could see the dim light filtering through the curtains of Amy's small bedroom, signalling the coming of day. The street was deserted, which was natural for this hour of the morning. The only sound he could hear was the chirping of birds nesting in the tree outside the house, and the cathedral clock tolling six.

How many times had he heard those bells ringing, had waited for them with anticipation? Once, they had been his only relief from the haze that always seemed to cover his thoughts and muddle his mind. During those times, the memories that had been lost to him had seemed ever so closer, ever so much more possible to recall, as if they were almost at fingertip's reach: memories of his beloved wife and son, memories of a happier time where laughter and joy reigned, and not sadness and despair.

He could feel Amy's deep, even breaths against his chest, feel her form curled to one side, an incredibly peaceful expression on her face. Her long golden-brown hair was spread out like a fan over her pillow, so close he could almost run his fingers through the delicate strands. A sweet smile curved her lips, as if she were dreaming of something glorious and made up of all things good. It swelled Lyell's heart to see it, and he resisted an urge to caress her delicately-boned cheek and feel the softness there.

He still couldn't believe it; just yesterday he had had no recollection who she was, and what she meant to him. She had simply been the beautiful, brown-haired woman, the face he knew he should remember but couldn't. It almost shattered him to know that now. In ten years he had not been anything but alone and it felt surreal to wake in the arms of his wife and know that she wasn't an apparition or a hallucination—that she was living and breathing and wouldn't disappear at a moment's glance.

In those final moments in the chapel, he had thought for an instant that shewas a dream or at best an illusion. He hadn't been able to comprehend, at first, what had happened. He had cut himself on the broken bottle, had put his fingers in his mouth to stem the bleeding. Then he knew them for whom they really where: the wife and child he had lost. And he had fallen into Amy's arms, had felt her living, breathing and alive, and knew that she was no illusion but real, and that the long years of loneliness and isolation were over at last for him.

Beside him Amy stirred, and blinked up at him. 'Go back to sleep, Lyell,' she said drowsily.

In seconds she was asleep again and Lyell smiled at how quickly it had happened. Amy seemed to have the gift for falling asleep instantaneously at any time. It had been like that for him too, once. Not anymore. The spellbound years had destroyed that part of him as surely as he breathed.

Lyell watched her sleep, his heart aching at the sheer peace on her face, a peace he didn't think he would ever feel again. He longed to touch her, kiss her, but the memory of the words spoken earlier that morning stopped him.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Lyell saw that dawn had passed; across the street houses were beginning to light up and neighbours were beginning to stir. It was time for him to get up as well, he decided. Lifting himself out from under the covers, he walked toward the door. He could feel his stomach rumble; it was time he ate something.

'Lyell.' Amy's voice paralysed him, and he turned slowly to see her face filled with terror. A bone-deep sadness touched him. Her eyes were fixed on him, intent though glazed with sleep. 'Lyell, don't go.'

Don't go. The words reverberated around the room and he stood frozen for a moment, images filling his mind, of that last day. Again he saw Manfred Bloor's coal eyes boring into his mind, and felt searing fire in his brain as his memories faded away. He wanted to cry out, but his throat was too dry for him to even speak.

Amy looked away, remorse clear in her eyes. He could guess what she had seen: an ice-cold terror that matched her own.

And because he couldn't face another moment standing there before her with those images in his head, he turned and walked away.

oOoOo

Later, Amy came up to him as they sat down to eat breakfast together.

'Lyell, are you okay?' she asked, and his heart missed a beat at the concern in her eyes. He almost laughed that she had to ask it. She, who knew him as well as he knew himself, if not better. No, he was not okay, he wanted to say. He was tired and afraid—of what he fully wasn't sure. His memory was in pieces, and he wasn't sure he would ever recover it all again. He felt worn out, in a place deep inside of him. How could he say all this to Amy?

'I'm fine,' he said instead. 'Really.'

Quickly he busied himself with eating. He refused to look her in the eye, for if he looked her in the eye she would surely see the turmoil there. If she knew what he was really feeling she would surely be sympathetic and want to help somehow, and Lyell didn't want to see sympathy in her eyes, not now. Lyell wasn't even sure she could help.

Amy said nothing to this; Lyell didn't expect her to. For a long moment she didn't speak at all. She just gazed at him with such concern that he couldn't look at her. Then she nodded and Lyell could see that she was not convinced but willing to let it go for now. And he hid his relief as she left the room, feeling the guilt surge in him almost immediately. He hated keeping secrets from her, but how could he tell her what he felt without being consumed by it? How could he tell her the worst of what he let them do to him—the agony he went through, and the terrible, terrible darkness that still haunted him? How could he show her the faded scars on his arms that would never really go away? How could he blacken her mind with that knowledge?

oOoOo

After breakfast he accompanied Amy to the green grocer's, not wanting her to walk alone. As they walked silently hand-in-hand Lyell felt an unseen presence following them, keeping to the shadows so that they wouldn't be seen. He wanted to look over his shoulder in search of the person, but didn't want to alarm Amy. After all, it could be just his imagination.

Somehow, he didn't think it was.

When they sighted the green grocer's, they paused for a moment, both of them secretly reluctant to go their own ways.

Amy turned to Lyell. 'Lyell, I'm sorry about earlier,' she said. 'I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have said what I did.'

They both knew what she was referring to.

'It doesn't matter,' he said gently, seeing the distress in her eyes. He touched her arm. 'I'm sorry if I scared you.'

Amy shook her head slowly, but Lyell could see the worried look in her eyes fade. 'Just promise me that you'll tell me if you're not okay, Lyell,' she said.

For a moment Lyell hesitated; he hated the thought of causing Amy any more worry than he was already. But she was his wife, and the grave concern in her eyes reassured him.

'I will,' he said. 'I promise.'

'Alright.' Amy reached up and kissed him on the cheek, and Lyell fought to hide the sudden desire that came over him. 'Goodbye, Lyell. I'll see you after work.'

He nodded and then she was gone and he couldn't help but feel a small sense of loss at her absence. He told himself he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling. In all possibility it would always be there, this need to be with his wife. But he couldn't be with her all the time, especially during working hours, and there would certainly be times when he needed to be alone. He would have to get used to it all, somehow.

With nothing else to do, he turned and made his way across the street, aiming to return to 9 Filbert Street without delay. It was no use just standing there in the cold, he thought dryly, and in the house he might see Paton or Charlie. He hadn't had the chance to properly talk to his uncle and friend last night and it would be good to catch up with what had been happening. From what Amy had said, and from the interactions between Charlie and Paton, it seemed as if they all had quite a lot of things to talk about.

For a moment, he was almost content, until he turned the corner.

From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flash of yellow and familiar ice-blue eyes, gazing at him from the entrance of an alleyway. Could it be the person that had been following him? He paused, and looked over his shoulder, to be certain.

His eyes widened. It was a woman who stood in the alleyway, silent as the grave. Her eyes were fixed on him, as if she couldn't tear them away. Her dark skirt and thick winter coat fluttered in the light breeze, but she didn't seem to notice. The breeze whipped past him, and the scent of roses and lavender came to his nose, mixed with the smell of dirty clothes.

Recognition hit him like a jolt of lightning. Titania. Or Miss Chrystal, as he had known her as in the Academy.

His heart thudded as he read the words on her lips. 'Meet me here, at evening tomorrow. Come alone.'

He knew he shouldn't. It was too dangerous. Whatever Miss Chrystal had been to him once, she was no friend to him now. That much was clear, as he met her intent gaze. He saw hurt there, and rage, bitterness and hate directed at him. But he also saw a hint of urgency, as if she needed to tell him something. And also love. Or did he imagine that?

For a long moment they stared at each other. Lyell deliberated. He had Charlie and Amy to think of, and Paton and Maisie as well. What would they think if he ran into danger now? And there was also something else, something incredibly important which lurked at the edges of his mind but which he couldn't bring into focus. But he found himself nodding, mouthing the words, 'I'll be there.' And he knew that if he had to choose again, he'd make the exact same choice. No matter how much grief it brought.

Miss Chrystal nodded at him and slipped away into the alley, as silent as an owl, leaving Lyell to continue to make his way into Filbert Street alone.

oOoOo

When he first saw her at the green grocer's, Lyell thought her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He was waiting in the queue when he caught sight of her. Golden-brown hair framing a pale, unblemished face and kind blue eyes that smiled at the customer she was serving, innocent and full of concern. It fair took his breath away; he couldn't stop staring at her no matter how much he tried. She was even more beautiful than Titania, and Titania was the sort of woman who drew men's attention and basked in it. He watched as she blushed at something another shop assistant said and bit her lip, and spoke with utter confidence to a customer, asking about their day and whether they would like a bag to go with their groceries. She was modest, kind, self-effacing and caring, so completely unlike Titania that it was refreshing.

A longing burned within him to speak to her, to know her name. So he waited and waited, and finally he was facing her with his handful of fruit and he blurted it out in one breath. 'Hello, I'm Lyell, what's your name?' And then, 'Coffee?'

oOoOo

After years of bachelor-hood and voluntary isolation, Paton Yewbeam had a girlfriend.

It both surprised and delighted Lyell to hear it. Paton had always been alone, aloof and apart from society, and though it had been entirely his choice (and necessary because of his endowment) Lyell knew that at times he was lonely and missed being able to do the things other people could do. He couldn't count (or properly remember for that matter) the number of times he had encouraged Paton to socialise and talk to this or that woman, and the equal amount of times Paton had refused.

Julia Ingledew was everything Paton could have wanted in a woman. She was beautiful, well-read with a keen interest in history. Though she had been wary at first of the descendents of the Red King and their strange endowments, Emma's involvement in that magical world (and her gift of flying) had accustomed her to them. Paton had been madly in love with her ever since he had first met her in Ingledew's Bookshop, having accompanied Charlie there to ask for the keys to Tolly Twelve Bells. At first it had seemed as if it may not work out, but Charlie's encouragement and Paton's own role in Emma Tolly's rescue had mended their relationship. Now they were in an ongoing relationship and Paton was even thinking of proposing to her in the near future.

Paton told Lyell all this as they sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and munching on sandwiches. Amy had already left for the green grocer's; Maisie was out shopping. Charlie had gone to the bookshop with Benjamin—the neighbours' boy, Paton said—and Fidelio Gunn, Charlie's best friend from Bloor's. It was just the two of them there, and they relished the opportunity to talk and catch up on each other's lives.

Paton had changed greatly from when Lyell had last seen him ten years before. Once a forbidding, anti-social man who only came out at night, he was now cheerful, charismatic and helpful. It was all because of Miss Ingledew, Charlie had told Lyell gleefully. She made him happy and gave him a reason to be more than what he used to be. Together, the couple were a powerful force for good and had helped Charlie and his friends many times, by giving them advice, encouragement and adult support. In fact, all of Charlie's close-knit friends (and also their parents) were waiting to see if Paton would pop the question. 'He has to!' Charlie had said, his eyes blazing with excitement. 'Miss Ingledew is perfect for him. Emma would love it!'

Of course, Lyell had never met Julia Ingledew, but seeing the adoring look in Paton's eyes as he talked of her, and the love in his voice, he had to agree. Paton was clearly madly in love. He deserved all the happiness in the world after all that he had endured.

Amy's words had never been truer. Everything had changed.

Rufus and Ellen were dead.

'How?' Lyell said thickly, staring into his cup. He could feel tears sting his eyes, salty and bitter. Rufus, dead? How could such a thing be?

'Car accident,' Paton replied. His voice hardened. 'It was contrived by the Bloor's. Ezekiel paid a man to run them over. I'm sorry, Lyell.'

It was hard to believe. The last time he had seen his friends, Ellen's womb had been swelling with life. Lyell had visited them at their home and had been amused at Rufus and Ellen's delight in each other and their unborn baby.

Ellen glowed, unable to hide her joy as Lyell took in the barely noticeable bump in her belly. Beside her Rufus beamed, unable to take his eyes of his wife. Lyell grinned at them both. 'Congratulations,' he said, kissing Ellen on the cheek and clapping Rufus on the back. 'How far along are you?'

'Two months,' Rufus laughed. 'It's still hard to get my head around it. Sometimes I can't stop myself from staring at it.'

'He's already treating me as if I'm made of china,' Ellen put in, rolling her eyes. 'It's only been ten weeks!' But Lyell could see a smile on her face as Rufus pulled her into a gentle embrace.

'Well, enjoy it while you can,' Lyell said lightly. 'The baby will take up most of your time after the birth. I should know. Most days it feels as if I've done nothing else besides looking after Charlie and going to work. But it's worth it.' He could feel his face soften as he thought of his nearly two-years-old son, already toddling about in Diamond Corner. Charlie was already quite a handful, but Lyell couldn't imagine a life without him now. Or without Amy, for that matter.

'What will you call it?'

Rufus and Ellen looked at each other and smiled. 'If it is a girl, Maud,' Rufus said, 'after my mother. But if it's a boy, Billy. Billy Raven.'

Lyell blinked, and found himself staring back at Paton, who didn't seem to notice what had happened.

'When?' He forced the word from his mouth.

'Around two years after you disappeared. It was quick,' Paton said. 'It was a mercy Billy Raven survived. He lived with his aunt, you know, for five years until the Bloors discovered his endowment and then they took charge of him. Then it was off to Bloor's for him.' Paton frowned briefly, deep in thought. 'I can't say why the Bloors wanted his parents dead, however. It may have been because of his endowment, but I can't know for sure.'

There was an important reason for it, Lyell thought suddenly. One he should remember with clarity. It niggled at his brain, but he couldn't recall it. What could possibly have made the Bloors murder his best friend?

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

'So what else has happened since I was…put under?' Lyell said at last. 'I've heard something from Amy, but not all.'

Paton looked at him from the rim of his cup. 'Ah, well, I think you know quite a bit of it already,' he said. 'Charlie's going to Bloor's, because of his endowment, of course—he started over a year ago near the end of October. He's had quite the adventure there, I'll say.' He took a large sip from his cup and stared at Lyell. 'How much do you know?'

It was almost the same question Amy had asked the night before.

'Some,' Lyell replied carefully. 'I know that Emilia Moon became Emma Tolly, but not how. I know about Henry Yewbeam.' He paused to sip at his coffee, and then continued. 'I know about what happened during the ruin game. But that's all.' Of course, that wasn't quite all of it, but he couldn't make himself speak of seeing Charlie at the Academy—the strangeness of that was still fresh in his mind, of how he had met his own son but hadn't recognise him. And he chose not to speak of his own small role in keeping the Time Twister from the Bloors.

'Well then…' Paton took another huge sip from his coffee, and launched into the recount.

oOoOo

It was evening when Amy left the green grocer's, her arms full of bags of half-rotten fruit and vegetables that nobody else would take. She could hear the frost crunching on the footpath underneath her feet, and feel the coldness of the air seep into her pores, numbing her. Shivering, she forced her aching feet to move quickly across the pavement towards Filbert Street, thinking with tiredness of what awaited her in the house. Warmth, and rest, certainly, and food as well. Amy knew that Maisie would have cooked up something good for dinner tonight, in celebration of their first full day without Grandma Bone in their lives.

There was also Lyell. Amy's heart beat faster at the thought. She had made this walk over and over again for the last ten years, returning to a household under the thumb of Grandma Bone, who never failed to remind Amy that she was only there—and not on the streets- because of the Yewbeams' financial aid. The Yewbeams liked owning people, and Grizelda Bone had drawn certain satisfaction from seeing Amy at their mercy and dependent on them for virtually everything. It was clear on her face every time Amy returned from work with her groceries, exhausted and numb, missing Lyell with all her heart and wishing he were still alive to take her away from this miserable existence. It was there each time Amy found herself asking for money to buy this or that, having found her own pockets empty. Nothing had given Grizelda Bone more satisfaction than seeing her son's unendowed, normal wife helplessly in her power.

Grandma Bone was gone, Amy told herself as she caught sight of the house. The kitchen windows flickered with candlelight; plain candles stood proudly on the windowsill, signalling Paton's presence. She had left number nine, never to return. It was a miracle, and a shock to them all. Grandma Bone had been a part of their lives for as long as anyone could remember.

When Amy entered the kitchen, she found Lyell, Paton and Charlie deep in conversation at the table while Maisie busied herself with the cooking; occasionally adding a few dry comments. The moment he saw her Lyell's face lit up, and he smiled at her in welcome.

She set down her armload on the table and slid into a seat beside Lyell's, watching as Maisie exclaimed with delight at the only slightly rotten eggplants and cauliflower in the bag. 'This'll be perfect for a soup.'

It felt natural and good to lean over and peck Lyell on the lips in greeting, and smile, feeling as if nothing in her world would ever go wrong again. She wanted to laugh as she saw Charlie's wide grin at that simple act, Maisie's satisfied nod and Paton's cheerful smile. 'What have you been up to here?' she asked, more than a little curious.

Lyell's eyes sparkled as he grinned at her. 'Charlie's been telling me about his life at Bloor's.'

She couldn't stop herself from laughing. 'Everything?'

'Close to it,' Paton winked.

'I think we got up to Ollie and the boa,' Charlie added. 'It took us over an hour to talk about Emma's awakening, and almost as long to talk about Henry.'

Amy shook her head, smiling. 'Of course. There is a lot to go through.'

Paton leaned forward, almost conspiratorially. 'We were also talking of going to the sea, all of us, to visit my father. We're all in need of a vacation—you and Lyell especially. A trip to the sea will do us all some good, I believe.' He looked around at them all, his eyes gleaming. 'And it'll be the first holiday we take as a family. Besides, my father will want to see Lyell.'

That prospect cheered Amy. A holiday would be a welcome change to their usual daily routine, and would certainly help them all. After all the excitement and stress of the past months, a trip to the sea was the perfect idea. 'When?' she asked.

'Not for some weeks, I think,' Paton said. 'We'll need time to prepare, and I'll have to call my father to tell him.' He frowned, and Amy saw a number of thoughts flicker through his eyes. 'I feel like we shouldn't leave the city now, as well. It's just a feeling, of course, but I believe we'll be needed soon here. All of us.' He gazed at them all sombrely. 'Something is happening in this city, or will happen. I don't know what. But I do know that we need to be here when it happens.'

They all looked at each other, the gravity of the situation not lost on them. Amy shivered, and felt rather than saw Lyell shift his chair closer to hers. 'Well, in a couple months then. Let's talk of something less serious, shall we? The weather, perhaps?'

'It's been terrible,' Maisie said. 'All cold and wet. It's a good thing I didn't go out today. I don't know how you managed, Amy, walking all the way to the green grocer's like that.'

Charlie grinned at the expression on Amy's face. 'I went to the bookshop today,' he said. 'Miss Ingledew missed you, Uncle Paton.'

A faint pinkish hue could be seen on Paton's cheeks then as he coughed slightly and looked away, a slight smile on his face. Amy stifled a laugh. 'I'll go to see her tomorrow,' he said. 'Now if you don't mind could we please change the subject?'

Charlie turned to his father. 'Will you come as well?' he asked eagerly. 'Miss Ingledew and Emma would love to meet you.'

Amy heard Lyell reply but didn't listen to what he was saying. She gazed around at her family, chatting at the table and felt completely at peace.

Amy couldn't remember when she'd last been this content and happy—never, most likely. For a moment, it felt like everything was in place again. She had her husband back, and her independence. Grandma Bone was gone from their lives. Her family was together again. Just for this moment, it felt like nothing evil could touch their lives again.

oOoOo

That night, Amy dreamt of Hart Noble, the man who she had almost married just a few days ago. The man who had bewitched her with his green-eyed gaze and his old-fashioned charm. In her dream, she stood facing him in the penthouse suite at the top of Kingdom's store. Unlike the last time she was there, her mind was painfully clear and not hazy at all. She could see him for what he was- a sneaky, selfish brute of a man. It was in his eyes- they looked at her with such coldness and triumph that it made her feel sick.

Hart smiled at her, a nasty smile that chilled her to her core. She shrank back against the wall as he moved closer to her. 'You mustn't be so afraid. I won't bite,' he said.

Amy had a feeling that he actually could. She lurched away as the man leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips. 'D-don't do that,' she said. 'I have a husband, Lyell.'

The man lifted one brown eyebrow. 'Why, you must be mistaken, my dear. I am your husband. You married me. Do you not remember?'

Amy froze. 'I... I can't have. Lyell's still alive, has always been alive. I can't have...' Her words faded away as she saw the truth in Hart's cold eyes. Slowly her eyes were drawn to the emerald ring that shone from the middle finger of her left hand. Ice filled her heart. Dear God, what had she done?

Hart laughed. 'My dear, Lyell is dead. He won't trouble us any longer.'

'Dead?' she said faintly. She felt herself sway. Please let this be a dream, she begged silently. Please...

'You killed him,' the man said pleasantly, as if he were talking about the weather.

'What?' Amy stared at him. 'What do you mean?'

Hart shook his head, as if in disappointment at her slowness. 'With your thoughts, foolish woman. You forgot him, and he faded. The boy was not enough to keep him alive. He lived because you remembered him. When you forgot him he died.' His smile widened. 'It was a joy to watch.'

No... Amy trembled. It couldn't be true. Could it? Had she really killed her own husband?

'You had better believe it,' Hart said, his eyes glowing with triumph. 'He is dead because of you. And you are mine.'

Her breath came out in short, ragged gasps. Her heart felt as if it would burst. She crumpled onto the soft carpet, her legs unable to hold her up any longer. 'No...' she heard her own voice whisper, as if from down a long tunnel. 'No, no, no, no, no.' It couldn't be true. It couldn't. Lyell couldn't be dead. She couldn't have killed him. It had to be a trick. It had to be.

'Stop fooling yourself,' Hart said from somewhere above her. 'You killed him.'

You killed him. The words reverberated around the room like poison. Finally it came to Amy, and she curled into herself and wept.

She had killed her husband.

She awoke to find herself in her own bed, with Lyell's arms wrapped around her. Her entire body was shaking, convulsing, with a terror she hadn't felt before now. She bit her lip to choke back the sob that was swelling her throat. It was a dream, just a dream... she chanted to herself over and over again. It wasn't real. Lyell was lying beside her, alive. She hadn't killed him, after all.

'Amy,' and she heard Lyell's voice close to her ear. 'Are you alright now?'

She took a deep breath. 'I think so,' she whispered; she couldn't speak any louder than that. Hysteria bubbled in her. 'Oh, Lyell, he said... he said I'd killed you. I truly thought...' A sob strangled her, and then another and another. She couldn't stop them. 'I...'

'I'm alive,' Lyell said gently. His grip tightened slightly, and she took comfort in being in his arms, safe. 'It was just a dream, Amy. No matter what happened, no matter how frightening it was, it was just a dream. And it's over now.'

It was over. Amy forced herself to breath evenly and slowly. No matter what happened, Lyell was alive. She hadn't killed him. But she almost had.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm herself enough to talk properly. When she thought she could, she opened her eyes and looked at Lyell. 'I'm sorry,' she said softly. 'I woke you.'

'It doesn't matter,' Lyell said. 'You needed me; I'm here.'

Tears pricked her eyes, and she looked away so that he wouldn't have to see them. She swallowed back the lump in her throat, and forced herself to speak. 'I'll be alright now. Go back to sleep, Lyell.'

He caressed her cheek. 'Are you sure?' There was a world of concern in his voice, and she bit her lip to prevent the tears from falling.

'Yes,' she said. 'Please don't worry. It won't happen again.'

She waited until she felt Lyell's breathing slow into an even pattern, and closed her eyes, praying for a dreamless sleep.


End file.
